


Breathe

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: Drarry Dump [23]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the end</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for th H/D Project, written at the close.

This house is lonely and I don’t belong here. I haven’t for a very long time. My mother is fussing over the length of my hair and how thin I am and has taken to following me around with plates of this or that. Sometimes I eat just to appease her, I put things in my mouth and I chew them and I swallow them; but I don’t taste them.  If you asked me I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I might have just eaten. 

This is hard.

Harder than planning a murder you know you can’t go through with or fighting a war you aren’t sure which side you belong on.  Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am a survivor, and then it will happen, the thing that I loathe the most.  I will stare at my reflection and ask myself how I got this way? How I allowed this to happen to me? I never have the answers I seek.

Sometimes I will lie in the darkness and let memories and tidbits of thoughts consume me. I will pick apart each one of them, looking for the flaw, for the exact point that things went wrong.  Sometimes I will drift into an uneasy sleep with his image in the forefront of my mind and then I will wake with his name on his lips.  I will sit up in the stilted night, tangled in bed sheets that are just a little bit too cold and I will curse myself because no one else is here to do it for me.

I deserve  this.

That is what I tell myself on a daily basis. Bad people don’t have happy endings and people like me should simply be thankful for the opportunity to exist. But I am not. I am greedy and selfish and I want more, gods so much more.

There is an early frost covering the grounds and I am getting a sick sort of pleasure in hearing the brittle and frozen blades of grass crunch and die beneath my shoes as I walk.  Each step is placed with purpose, intent to cause the most pain. Am I really trying to hurt the grass? Why yes, yes I am.  I take what I can get, don’t judge me. Or do, it matters very little to me anymore.

I think, if I’m being honest, that what I had, without a doubt, was love.  It isn’t a word I associate with myself, but what else could it be? What else makes your spine tingle and your jaw clench with a simple thought? Why else would my lips yearn and my chest ache, if not for love? When he kissed me it was like fireworks, that is love, isn’t it? 

Maybe it was all just a dream.

But my dreams are not this painful, even the bad ones.  I associate pain with wounds but what of the wounds you can’t readily see? What do you do with those? How do you patch those up?  How do you make them stop hurting?

 I am so much more lost than I was before.

I can’t fix this.

I can’t fix this.

I love you.


End file.
